


Shallow Cuts

by misura



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Jossed, Knifeplay, M/M, No Sex, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurent and Damen's first meeting post-Ravenel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shallow Cuts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cathalin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathalin/gifts).



It was, Damen discovered, actually possible to get someone out of Veretian style clothing in a hurry. The feat only required a sharp knife, and a willingness to ruin a high quality garment.

Some easy, teasing comment about impatience, about Laurent's apparently having missed him rose to his lips - and froze there, as he caught sight of the expression on Laurent's face.

The knife was still in Laurent's hand, held loosely, almost casually. Damen himself was unarmed, which was hardly the same as helpless, naturally. Still.

"I don't believe that I'd be able to defeat you in single combat," said Laurent. His tone was light. He might have commented on the weather, for all the emotion in his voice.

Damen remembered Laurent's comment to him after a practice bout - _You're better than I am_. Remembered, also, Laurent's telling him of his training, of wishing to become good enough to best his brother's killer.

_There is no honor in Veretians._ His father's words, so often echoed during Damen's first few months in Vere, if less frequently these past weeks.

"Nevertheless, I don't believe I'd like to see you try," he said, mouth dry. He did not believe that Laurent would truly kill him. Not right here and now - nor ever, if he was honest with himself.

_Those without the capability to deceive cannot sense deception in others._ Laurent himself had told Damen that. Of course, if you looked at it in a certain way, Damen was able to deceive very well, or had been, at any rate.

"Why not?" Laurent asked. "You'd win, eventually. With both me and my uncle dead, Vere would be easy pickings. At the very least, you'd be able to snatch some of the border provinces."

_I don't want the border provinces. I want -_ but Damen didn't allow himself to finish that thought. Sentiment would not sway Laurent's mood, however sincere.

"You're making rather a lot of assumptions, aren't you?"

"Am I?" Laurent said. "Really?"

"Yes," Damen said. "You are. I am not yet King of Akielos."

Laurent's shoulders moved in the ghost of a shrug. "You will be."

It was true. Damen had planned for it; had _dreamt_ of it. Nikandros's arrival had been unexpected but neither unwelcome nor inconvenient; if anything, it would accelerate things.

"You assume I would accept your challenge." It was not a thing often done anymore, these days.

"It would hardly look good if you didn't," Laurent said. "Your reputation would suffer, and you can't really afford that. Not if you want to beat Kastor. You'd have no choice but to accept."

Damen looked at the knife. "Did you plan on evening the odds, first?"

"I planned," Laurent said precisely, "to give you your throne back first," and Damen felt the world rearrange itself around him once more. "On the other hand," Laurent went on, "killing me would make for quite a feather in your cap as well. That might be enough."

"You talk about your own death very easily."

"Perhaps your betrayal has unhinged my mind," Laurent said. "Taking into my bed a man whom I assumed was only a simple soldier, who then turned out to be none other than Damianos, Prince-killer."

"Betrayal was not my intention," said Damen. "Survival was."

"A man interested only in survival would have sought to take the knife from me by now."

"And do what with it?" Damen asked. "I came here expecting - I didn't come here expecting to need to fight you," he amended. "Or argue with you."

"Then I guess you don't know me very well," said Laurent, "do you?"

_You don't let anyone get close enough to know you._ It would always be like this between them, Damen knew. Not quite as bad, perhaps; not with Laurent mouthing words like 'betrayal' and 'Prince-killer', but Damen would never be able to predict with absolute certainty what Laurent might do in any given situation.

He would not have imagined, a little over a year ago, that he'd find that alluring, that _not_ knowing Laurent only made Damen want him more.

"There are new clothes for you." Laurent pointed. "I suggest you put them on."

Damen considered refusing. Considered trying for the knife after all, even though he knew how badly that might well end. "And then?"

"Then," said Laurent, "we will go and meet with Nikandros. You may wish to hurry; I told him to expect us fifteen minutes ago."


End file.
